


custom

by thisisthenoid



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Accents, Can be seen as pairing, Comfort, Crying, Emotional Baggage, H - Freeform, Hugs, Idiots in Love, Lazy story, M/M, Sappy, Self-Indulgent, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, only slightly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-12 05:56:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20559344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisthenoid/pseuds/thisisthenoid
Summary: no one can hold their blues in forever.





	custom

**Author's Note:**

> started: 7/09/2019  
ive been feeling like shit for a long while now so i said fuck it and wrote this  
this is bad, i dont know what the fuck pov it's in, and it's gotten to the point where im sick of looking at it, but god fuck i dont care fdhbdfshbj

they stare at each other, silence and unasked questions hanging heavy in the air. then woodie bolts forward without warning and with arms outstretched, and wilson flinches back in response, thinking woodie is about to strangle him. 

woodie collides into him and coils his limbs around wilson, who's on the brink of fight or flight, certain his ribs are going to be crushed or he's gonna be back stabbed or something just as awful, but his mind blanks completely when woodie tugs him close, hands rubbing soothing circles into his shoulder blades. he stares, bewildered, over woodie's shoulder, too stunned to properly react to the situation, claws hovering uselessly over woodie's sides.

  
once wilson actually feels the motions on his back and the sheer blanket of warmth at his front and realises woodie isn't going to harm him, he can't stop the emotions from bubbling to the surface. all at once, his patch grows dark, fat tears rolling down his cheeks in waves that sink into the plaid of woodie's shirt. he screws his eye tightly closed and returns the embrace in kind, though with more urgency, a shaky tightness that comes from years of being alone.

he doesn't know why he's crying; why he's suddenly hit with a deep gutted depression that's been buried away for years and years, why he's clinging on to woodie for dear life, why it's all flowing out now. he just hides his face in woodie's neck and bundles his claws into the lower half of his shirt, stepping as close as he can into woodie. he can't stop quivering, can't stop the tears, can't stop the sobs, only able to hold on and let it all out, and woodie allows him the outlet.

he hears woodie whisper things to him, but his head is full of cotton, and he can't make out what he's saying, so he focuses on woodie's presence. on how strong and sturdy and sure woodie is. he hiccups as more tears fall, and he seems to sink deeper and deeper into woodie's hold rather than think about his mental state, deeper and deeper into the mans shared reassurance, forever grateful for his extended hand.

very slowly, the tears stop sliding, and he gains control of his rapid breathing that turn into muffled sniffles. still, he doesn't let go, and woodie doesn't move to pull away. he sags the rest of the way into woodie's personal space, until they're practically one being, and woodie holds him closer, like he's trying to absorb the rest of wilson's sadness. wilson finds that, somehow, it's working; his heart begins to feel lighter, head clearer. he's gaining control of himself again.

his face and woodie's shoulder are wet, and he's weak from exhaustion. still, wilson finds his voice, however croaky and rough and weak it comes out.

'i-i'm. ... i'm sorry i made your shoulder wet.'

woodie barks with laughter, the sound reverberating through wilson's entire body, and woodie tightens his embrace in further encouragement. just like the sadness, new emotions flood wilson; solace, safety, warmth, _home_.

'don't you worry none, eh? 'mm just glad you feel a tad better.'

'... thank you. truly. fr-from the bottom of my heart. i- i didn't realise how much i. i needed that.'

'that's what friends do, eh. i'm here for ya, wilson, you don't have to bottle that stuff up 'round me.'

wilson's eye waters, but this time, it's from happiness. woodie pulls away, but only so they're face to face, arms still wrapped snugly around him. if woodie looked into wilson's eye deep enough, he'd see a star within the pool of black. he can't wipe the dopey smile off his face.

'i love you a lot, y'know.' woodie says in a low voice, both serious and casual at the same time. wilson's stomach flutters, and he can't find his tongue to respond, so he takes a small step forward and rests his forehead against woodie's instead, their noses bumping together. he hopes the action speaks the words he so desperately wishes he could find to say. one of woodie's hands rises to cup wilson's face, thumb stroking under his tear streaked eye, and it takes everything in wilson not to melt from the touch. 'an' i mean it. everything i say - i mean it from the bottom of my heart, too. i _love_ you, and i care aboot you a lot, an' you've made me happy. i'm. i'm glad i can take away some'a that pain, eh?'

he starts crying again, not from sorrow, but from pure joy. he's never felt as happy as he did in that one blissful, beautiful moment. the way woodie gazes at him, with pure love twinkling in his white eyes, is enough to tell wilson that he's being earnest.

'thank you.' is all he can respond with, which is enough for woodie.

it's more than enough for woodie.


End file.
